Minor Indiscretions
by Say your right words
Summary: Sarah has found that her once over-run house is now completely empty, and she's really not sure she likes it. Why have the goblins gone? What could possibly have called them back to the Underground so suddenly?


A/N: Yep, first fanfiction in many, many years. This chapter is short, just a teaser if you will. I need time to lay out the next chapter to be the epic it's meant to be. Let's see if I've still got it...

Edit: Revamped this a bit, reworked it to be a little less drawling. Second chapter is coming along nicely. Might be up before the week is out...

Disclaimer: I own nothing having to do with the Labyrinth franchise, Jim Henson, Brian Froud, or anything related to anything having to do with any of those. I merely scrounge together crap plots and half characters to further my own sick agenda's.

**Chapter 1**

_**Silence**_

The street was empty, illuminated by the streetlamps and the occasional warmly glowing window from one of her neighbor's homes. Sarah's home was quiet.

She shivered.

Sarah had finally managed to get away from work. Her shoulder was weighed down heavily by her laptop bag, and her feet protested at standing on the gravel of her driveway. There was a warm bath with her name on it, and a comfy bed, but she paused. Her house, as previously stated, was deserted...

and that's what bothered her.

Adjusting the strap of her bag nervously, she breathed deep and walked up the tiny porch to her door.

It was dark, but warm, the heater humming quietly beneath her feet in the basement. She took her time shutting the front door. She made a great show of putting down her bag and kicking off her sneakers, seeming to try and call the attention of someone. She eyed the darkness.

Nothing.

Clapping twice, the lights flickered on. Her comfortably cluttered home was, as she suspected, empty. The couch still had the throw pillows relatively neat, her carpet had no new stains, and the curtains had not been reduced to tatters. Another shiver crawled up her spine like the prodding of cold fingers.

As long as she could remember, she had never been in an empty house. She had always had Merlin, or her family to fill in the silence. Even when she moved out she wasn't alone, though most people seemed to think she was. She supposed it was for the best. Explaining the frequently...disturbed order of her house was much easier if she claimed to be too busy for cleaning, rather than admitting she had several roommates.

Sarah swept her eyes around, taking a few tentative steps through her small living room. She felt like an intruder in her own home, tiptoeing about as she did. It was almost like stepping too loudly would make the place shatter like her crystal ballroom. She peaked into the kitchen, hoping to catch someone tampering with her fridge or coating them self with ice cream. The kitchen was as clean as she left it. She looked up hopefully, but even the ceiling was free of the tiny footprints of mud or some other such substance her 'guardians' liked to wallow in. Her hand were ringing the hem of her unflattering sweater.

Sarah had never been sure if it was Jareth's doing, or perhaps they had simply always been there, but she was followed constantly by goblins. Most of them were small, squeaky things that took great pleasure in wreaking havoc, and simply infested any place she called her own. There had been many a morning when she'd woken up to find her milk had a healthy dose of tomato soup mixed in with it, or her toothpaste had been used to draw silly, and occasionally lewd, things in her mirror, or her door had suddenly lost it's hinge and been propped back up into place, so when she went to open it, it simply fell forward.

Yes, chaotic as it was, Sarah's home had always been teaming with life, the shadows themselves writhing and wriggling with huge blinking eyes. But now...

Suddenly suspicious, Sarah narrowed her eyes, moving towards the cabinets.

" Whatever you little beasts are up to," she threatened, poking her head in her cupboard, before shutting it and turning an accusing glare to the empty house," your going to be in a world of trouble for it!" She lowered her voice; " ...Just as soon as I find out what it is..."

Thoroughly searching her home had not been a good move on Sarah's part. She had found many signs of goblin mischief, but they were old. Socks strung together like a makeshift rope; towels with something decidedly horrific wrapped up within, several remotes to things she had never seen in her life stashed in her laundry basket, except maybe one that looked suspiciously like the one her neighbor had lost about a month ago. At least ten cases of goblin mischief she had merely missed in the past month but not a single hair nor hide could be found of the little creatures. It made something grip at her. She wasn't sure if it was fear, suspicion, or perhaps just loneliness, but it was altogether unpleasant, and left her feeling jumpy.

Heaving a defeated sigh, she shut the large chest at the foot of her bed, making a note to sand down the doodles that had been etched into the bottom, and lifted her self up. With a final look at her room, Sarah headed for the bathroom, a clean towel draped over her arm.

" It better be clean..." She muttered the habitual threat to the empty house and shut the door.

With her robe wrapped securely around her, Sarah pulled the sheet off the bathroom mirror and wiped away the steam that fogged it. After figuring out that the Underground occasionally saw the Aboveground through mirrors, she had begun covering any reflective surfaces when she needed privacy. She didn't need the location of her birthmark to become the only thing people knew how to find in the Underground.

Sitting in the silence, naked, in a tub, with no usual mayhem sounding from outside the small bathroom had been horror movie frightening, and left her with only barely enough patience to brush her teeth. She just wanted to hide under the thick shield that was her blanket and forget how empty her home was. She was suddenly quite aware of why everyone thought she was crazy for living so completely alone...

When she emerged from the bathroom, she looked hopefully for the movements; the scurrying that announced the presence of goblins. She wouldn't even mind the smell, at this point...

Well, yes she would, but that was beside the point.

Disappointment was what greeted her. She dressed for bed quickly. There had been times when shooing the goblins was near impossible, so she had learned to change in and out of every article of clothing she had without revealing anything too important. It was a handy skill, though it was interesting explaining it to the women at the gym. She finagled her nightgown on before dropping her robe and crawling into bed, burrowing deep in her covers. She tried not to notice how empty the foot of the bed was.

" They'll be back tomorrow..." She assured herself quietly, rolling onto her stomach to stare at her clock.

The next morning went about absurdly without hitch. Sarah woke up, muttered to no one, took a bathroom break, and made her coffee. It was something else; not finding anything unusual in her coffee maker, but it still left an ache when she turned back to the toaster and found her toast still there. Even sitting on the couch had been exceptionally simple. She tried to be interested in the breaking story, something about a bobcat mauling on the other side of the city, but her eyes kept glancing at the kitchen, expecting something to explode. By the time the weather report ran, she was cuddling a throw pillow, feeling pitiful. The weather channel warned of rain, maybe even a little snow over the next week. She'd have to have her dad come by and check the heater. Independent as she was, the thing frightened her, and her father still liked saving his princess.

" Maybe while Dad's working, me and Karen could go do something..."

…

The sudden realization that she had been alone for less than twenty four hours and she was already desperate enough for company to consider a day out with Karen had her leaping violently off the couch. She kept a tight hold on the cup, but the poor throw pillow had _indeed_ been thrown. Nearly breaking the mug as she dropped it in the sink, Sarah made a dash for her room.

" Alone or not," She hastily dressed, not bothering for the cover of her robe and only partially covering her mirror with the towel she had used last night, " I'm acting like a child. One minute I'm griping about never being able to invite anyone over, the next I'm pouting like a kicked puppy because the house might stay clean enough to do just that. Honestly..."

She was out the door in record time, muttering to herself about phone numbers she wasn't sure she had, and whether or not she had enough in the fridge to make a decent enough meal to entertain with.

She did not notice the unusually large cat lounging on her roof.

Standing four floors tall, the old brick apartment building looked abandoned. Against the gleaming windows and colorful strip malls, her home away from home looked down right decrepit, but that's why she liked it. It was one of those places you never noticed without a friend pointing it out. It was special, in an unassuming sort of way. Above the simple wooden door before her was a stained glass sign, reading; " Four Stories".

Despite having more work than she could finish in a week waiting for her on the other side, she eagerly pushed through the door.

The faint smell of incense and something musty she could only identify as "old-book" surrounded her, calming her nerves. She hadn't realized how tense she'd been until she'd stepped inside this hidden treasure. The place was so packed with bookshelves, you couldn't see the walls. Crammed in the corner of the foyer was a desk with an ancient cash register and several piles of books with little red tags sticking out of them. Three separate staircases wound out of site, already partially hidden by the thick bookshelves and covered from floor to ceiling in posters. Each stairway was different, some going two steps, some twisting, some going up so high you couldn't see up them without standing in the doorway. There were nearly thirty rooms, each with it's own genre, posters, and even music playing in some. It was like being in a maze of perfection. Everywhere you turned was something like literary gold, and no matter how many other people you knew were in the store, you always felt completely alone. She took a relaxing breath, and smiled.

" Williams!" The gravelly voice of her boss broke her out of her reverie, " Come help!" Hauling in another batch of red ticketed books was a squat woman who looked to be pushing a hundred. When Sarah had first seen her, she had thought the woman was a very large bulldog. Voicing this thought had nearly cost her the book she had been allowed to pick out when she was a child. It had also brought out a mad cackle from the old woman, and a showing of stained, horribly crooked teeth. Thinking on it, her boss reminded her greatly of the old junkyard goblin she had dealt with all those years ago. She hustled over to the old woman and took most of the books out of her gnarled old hands. " Took yer sweet time didn't ya?"

" Sorry, Minnie." Minerva was her whole name, but she apparently hated it, so she was Minnie to anyone who didn't want to be spat on. Sarah couldn't blame her. " More special orders?" Minnie glowered.

" Of course there are! No one got the patience to look around, so they call me an' pretend like I couldn't possibly have the book they want, so they want it special order. Bah!" Minnie continued to gripe, but Sarah had tuned her out. Minnie loved her store and it's customers, but anyone who wouldn't take the time to explore the place themselves was vermin to her. Sarah never understood why someone wouldn't want to peruse the thin halls amongst the unusual books kept here, but she also couldn't understand why it made Minnie so hopping mad that some people really didn't. " Laziness!" She would often say after hanging up the receiver, " Sloth! We are the age of instant gratification, an' I hate it!".

Her griping was now down to the occasional harsh mumbles as she rearranged and stacked the books high, propping the highest stack up with a broom. Sarah helped her, angling and organizing the stacks without disturbing the old woman's methodical madness.

Sunken eyes watched the girl work with suspicion. Minnie's nostrils were flaring, the barest puffing of her chest making it look very much like she was smelling the younger girl. Her eyes narrowed.

" What ya been rollin' in, Williams?" Sarah's eyebrows furrowed. She was used to Minnie's peculiar greetings, but even for Minnie, that had been weird. The fact that the old woman had practically hissed the question out didn't help much either.

" I'm sorry...?" Minnie snorted. She really did look like an angry old bulldog.

" Don't play coy! You been playing a new game, haventcha?" The way Minnie said it, Sarah scarcely believed her statement had anything to do with the video games she played occasionally with her little brother.

" What do you mean?" Minnie stared at her for a long time, the seconds creeping by as her hard stare bore into Sarah's skull. Sarah's arm crossed over her chest, unconsciously trying to shield herself. Quite suddenly, she snorted, and turned to face the register, grunting something unintelligible. Sarah took that as her cue to leave before Minnie decided to get more senile. She quickly walked up the steps nearest her, two at a time.

She didn't notice Minnie slide a small book out from under her sleeve, or the furious scribbling that followed.

A/N: Yes, so that is chapter one. You all thought Rapeface!Jareth would be waiting in her house, didn't you? Well, I hoped so, too, but he didn't show. Bruised pride, you know. Do tell me what you think. I don't know if I can continue this, but I can promise I will try my damnedest.

P.S. There really is a bookstore like that in Columbus Ohio. I visited it once, and was surprised to find a strange old woman talking to her dog. The dog was a sweet thing, and the old woman was nice, but the more I spoke with her, the more disturbed I was. You see, every time I'd say something, she'd speak to the dog, and recite some very true facts about my life. Like; my star sign, my marital status, my reasons for being out of state, and several other things that became increasingly personal. By the time the old woman left, I had my very soul picked apart, apparently by her dog, and conversed lightly about. It was beyond exciting, if not a little disturbing. It's on my bucket list to visit there again...


End file.
